A Tale of Two Mommies

…because more seems excessive…

February is the best month of the year…

My son is a two-foot-tall gremlin when it comes to chocolate, as evidenced by his first bonafide tantrum that is certain to be foreshadowing for his second year.  At fifteen months he most definitely understands quite a bit more than I would expect him to, and I’m convinced most of the time he pretends that I’m speaking some archaic language that only imbeciles utter just so he has an excuse to ignore me.

It began as an afternoon like any other.  My son was staggering around our family room aimlessly before taking a sharp turn past our sofa and proceeded to pound on our pantry door.  I could be mistaken, but I’m fairly certain he was not in search of the canned goods and grits we house behind the door.  I recognized his emotional rendering of need, for if I too did not have the ability to manipulate door knobs keeping me from a tasty bag of chocolate, I would have the very same reaction.  I give him a definitive negation thereby thwarting his plans.  What began as a gentle cry of disbelief quickly transformed into an impressive full-out wail of sorrow and despair at my cruelty.  I walked away, and he followed me into every downstairs room before I attempted distraction with a book and puzzle.

The technique worked until I glanced in the general vicinity of the pantry, to which I was greeted with the shrieks of a boy whose manhood has not yet dropped.  Even after the ringing in my ears subsided, I’m fairly certain I can no longer hear certain octaves.  With jerky movements of a poorly executed zombie flick, he returned to the pantry door.  You’ve got to be kidding me!  But, the prize goes to me, as my will is stronger than a fifteen-month-old chocoholic, so perhaps we will both survive until his next birthday.

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